Later
by fallenAngel'sfic
Summary: CG. Strong M rating. He told her they'd pick it up later...


Title: Later  
Author: fallenAngel  
Rating: Strong M / 15  
Disclaimer: I do not own Lie to me*  
Summary: He told her they'd pick it up later…  
A/N: Sequel to csiAngel's fic 'Reality' which can be found on her fanfiction account. Please bear in mind that was written based on the Darkness & Light promo clip, not the episode itself. This is walltiems!

… … …

She isn't in her office, or the lab, or the break room. And neither is anyone else, he notes - although that doesn't matter at all if she has gone home.

Disappointment is just starting to churn in his stomach when he spots her through the window of the waiting area. The same window that, hours ago, he had her pressed against.

She's sitting in one of the chairs, resting back, her legs crossed, and hands folded in her lap; and she's looking straight at him. When she doesn't move - not even the slightest twitch - he moves to the doorway, leaning against it as he says,

"I thought you'd gone home."

"I only got this far," she replies.

It is anticipation that flips his insides now. "Everyone else has left," he tells her.

"I realised that," she says, slowly standing from her seat.

Watching her approach him, he laughs, "Are you being deliberately coy, love?"

She smiles at his question. "I'm being deliberately cautious."

"You weren't being cautious earlier," he grins, alluding to the arousal he could see in her eyes when he had her pinned against the glass. He's nervous that she's pulling away; that they were so close to crossing the bloody line that has been the bane of his existence for too long and she's trying to talk them out of it. But at the same time he's bizarrely nervous that she might not back away. She stirred a jumble of feelings within him when she kissed him that morning and, when she stops in front of him now and emits a soft sigh, he concludes that he hasn't a chance in hell of sorting them all out.

"I think I was very cautious earlier," she comments.

His mind is assaulted by images of what could have happened if they hadn't been cautious and he takes a step closer to her. "Oh yeah?"

She nods once. "We were in a corridor. Surrounded by people."

"Well now we're in a corridor, alone." He edges closer to her, his heart rate increasing when she steps back until she's leaning on the doorframe.

"Yes we are."

"Are you going to carry on being cautious or do you want to admit that you've spent all day thinking about our kiss?"

She swallows hard and Cal allows his hands to move and land gently on her waist.

She lifts her right hand and lightly rests it against his chest. "Oh I haven't spent all day thinking about our kiss," she says, quietly.

He knows that disappointment flashes across his face and he watches her smirk in reaction to it.

"Now you're being deliberately cruel," he accuses.

She smiles, a hint of playful evilness in her eyes. "Just honest," she defends herself.

"You haven't been thinking about the kiss?" he frowns, confused now as to whether she is flirting with him or not. He's pretty sure he used to be better than this at reading women.

"That's not what I said." Her left hand joins her right on his chest and she watches her fingers trace random patterns on his shirt. A flicker of nervousness crosses her face and then she whispers, "I spent most of the day wondering what we do in your dreams."

Her hands still and she risks a look at him. He resists his first instinct to pounce on her. Instead he sneaks further into her personal space. It is his intention to speak; to make some sort of comment about what she said. But she inhales when he steps closer to her and her eyes darken. Combined with the touch of her body against his, it is too much to fight: He can't think of a clever response and there are no words to express how he feels at that moment. So he leans across the remaining distance and kisses her.

His fingers press into her waist as he increases the pressure of the kiss; hers curl, gathering fistfuls of his shirt. She murmurs a hum of contentment and her lips part beneath his. His heart is pounding; every cell in his body is trembling; she feels so much better than he has ever imagined. Their kiss that morning taught him how sweet she would taste, but nothing prepared him for the heat shooting through his body or the shivers when her tongue brushes against his.

He slips his fingers under her shirt, feeling her skin, warm and smooth to his touch. She moans again and pulls him closer, tasting him more forcefully. He knows where this is heading; he knows he's more than ready to go there. He needs to make sure she is.

It takes several seconds but he manages to tear his mouth away from hers. He looks for her eyes, finding them closed. She's practically panting in front of him; her mouth remains slightly open as she catches her breath. She's waiting, he senses, and a further second passes before she opens her eyes.

When she does, he doesn't even need to ask his question. Desire and impatience hit him full force and a low growl erupts from his throat. He swings her to her right, pressing her flat against the cool glass wall. He drops his lips to her ear whispering roughly, "So you want to know what happens in my dreams?" He nips at her ear lobe then kisses the tender skin.

She tilts her head so she can whisper back. "I want you to _show_ me what happens in your dreams."

His arousal stirs painfully at the sound of those words from her lips and he kisses hungrily at her neck. He slips his hands between them, starting work on the buttons of her shirt.

"In my dreams," he tells her in a low voice, "You'd be out of this shirt by now. But…" He nips and sucks at the skin just below her ear and her head falls back. "… I'll take a little more care this time. I know you like this shirt."

He takes each button one at a time and it seems like an eternity before he can part the fabric and slide his hands inside. It's an eternity he spends caressing her neck; listening to her ragged breathing; noting which touches make her squirm; which cause her breath to catch. And when the last button is undone, he flattens his hands against her chest and glides them across the newly bared skin, pushing her shirt open.

She inhales sharply, and holds her breath until his hands still at her shoulders. He moves his head away from her neck, to look at her. Her flushed cheeks and dilated pupils make him smile and he fuses his lips to hers as he pushes her shirt and jacket off her shoulders, lifting her slightly away from the wall to allow them to drop to the floor. Her pelvis brushes his as they move and when she grinds herself against him a second time, he knows she is well aware of the effect she is having on him.

He pushes into her, his hands falling naturally on her waist once the shirt has been released. He feels her abdominal muscles quiver when he starts to move his fingers higher, and her hands slip under his t-shirt, pushing it upwards. Her insistence that the item be removed stops his exploration before he can reach his intended territory. He lets go of her and allows her to pull his t-shirt over his head.

They're apart only a split second but it's long enough for him to see her appreciative grin. She has looked at him like that in his dreams - he had never truly expected to experience it in reality. It evokes another growl and he is upon her again, his hands immediately finding her breasts to prevent her finding some other way to delay it - although, from the way she arches her back to press herself into his massaging grip, he doubts she would want to delay it.

The bra has to go, so he makes quick work of removing that, dropping it carelessly to the floor. He takes a second to admire the newly revealed sight before flicking his eyes up to meet hers.

"My dreams didn't do you justice, love," he tells her and he watches an even deeper blush rise up her chest onto her cheeks.

She reaches out and takes hold of his hands, yanking him towards her. He shivers when he feels her naked breasts against his bare chest, and again when she whispers to him, "My dreams have a lot less talking."

When he raises an eyebrow at her unexpected admission, she smirks seductively in response.

"What happens next, Cal?"

He presses his lips onto hers, pushes his tongue into her mouth, swirling it around her own. His right hand grasps her left breast, and his left sneaks lower, cupping her through her trousers. She's warm and she moves to meet him, a moan rumbling from her.

He snatches his kisses along her jaw line, informing her, "This," as he passes her ear. He moves down her neck, relishing each sound of pleasure that slips from her lips. He crosses her collar bone and continues, ultimately enclosing her left nipple in his mouth; sucking it; teasing it. A delectable sound somewhere between a moan and a sigh indicates her approval, and as he continues to taste the new spot, his hands meet at the button of her trousers.

Her fingers work on his belt while his slip her trousers open and he delights in causing her to fumble in her actions when he dips his hand inside her underwear, stroking a finger across her entrance. She's wet and ready for him and he bites down on her breast and pushes his fingertip into her folds.

She swallows hard and gasps for breath, her muscles contracting around him. She regains control of her hands and before he knows it they are inside his underwear and she's gripping him firmly.

His sharp inhalation relinquishes her breast from his mouth, and as she starts to move her hand tantalisingly slowly, he drops his head to her chest.

He slides his finger further; she holds tighter. He bites and licks and kisses at her chest and the swell of her breasts; she slips her other hand inside his trousers, her fingernails grazing his ass. His hips buck in rhythm as she pumps him more and more rapidly; another finger joins his first inside her and matches the beat.

Pressure is building inside him and he's barely alert enough to know that he needs to stop this before he explodes. He drags his head up, locking his eyes on hers and withdrawing his fingers from her. She whimpers, but he knows she understands when he is instantly pushing her trousers and underwear down her legs. She returns the gesture with his and they both step out of the puddled clothes, kicking them aside.

Then their hands are exploring bare skin in a frenzied fight to feel every centimetre. He runs his fingers through her hair, down her neck, across her back. He cups her ass, holds her tightly against him; his erection twitches against her stomach. They steal hurried gulps of air between fevered kisses. Her skin is hot; her lips burn. He can't touch enough of her; can't inch close enough to her. He wants more and he's taking it all.

Her left leg lifts and wraps around his waist and he quivers in anticipation of where this is leading. He holds the leg; adjusts their position. He strokes the head of his penis over her moist entrance, teasing her, but finding it has the same effect on him: The teasing doesn't last long.

Leaning into her, he nudges himself inside her. She breathes in deeply as he edges further and further. He grips her hips, holding her in place, steadying her as she takes him in.

He permits them a moment to adapt, to settle, then takes his cue when she starts to move. Slowly at first, she rises and falls, sinking deeper onto him each time. They fall into a steady tempo, bodies meeting. Even their breathing slips into synch.

When they're established, he shifts one hand to torment her breasts. Each sound she releases spurs him on and when she falters from her side of the rhythm and her muscles tremble violently around him, he pushes harder and faster until her back is sliding up and down the glass and she's mumbling indecipherable words.

His legs start to shake; the room starts to spin; he thrusts deeper and deeper and she's crying out his name and her hands cling to his back and she's pulsating around him sending shockwaves to his core. Then lights explode behind eyelids he hadn't even realised had fallen closed. He pushes himself deep into her as he reaches his climax, pouring himself into her.

His lips find hers and she moans into his mouth as he kisses her, cherishes her; marvels at the fact that this is real.

As his body calms, so do his kisses, until he's softly touching his lips to hers between shaky breaths.

She smiles against his mouth and he manages to pull his heavy head back to look at her.

"So how often do you have that dream?" she asks him quietly, licking her lips.

He laughs and runs his hand along the thigh that still rests on his hip. "Oh my dreams are never _that_ good, love," he tells her honestly and despite the fact that she is completely naked in front of him, and has just given him the best sex he's ever had, she blushes and ducks her eyes away from his. "A bit too late to be shy," he tells her, smirking before he kisses her soundly.

She hums contentedly, the sound vibrating against his lips.

"So…" he asks her when they part again for air, "Did that satisfy your curiosity?"

She smiles. "I think you know it did."

She lowers her leg and straightens up, but still leans against the wall.

"All right, love?" he asks, intending the question to apply on so many levels.

And when she nods her reply, he knows that she means it on each and every one.

"No regrets?" he checks.

She shakes her head. "Just a request."

He quirks an eyebrow.

She nods towards where the security camera is. "Get hold of that video footage."

A wide grin spreads across his lips and he waggles his eyebrows. "Oh, aye, love?"

She narrows her eyes and hits him playfully on the chest. "Before anyone else does, Cal," she insists.

He just continues to grin at her. "Our very own video… And we didn't even have to pay for it!"

THE END


End file.
